Becoming of love
by BohemianTwinkle
Summary: little pieces of shared moments of love between couples at the rouge. first is nini and the argentinean.


Authors note: I haven't actually got a song for this, there are just random lines scattered about in it from a poem I wrote a while ago which I found fitting and there are also some familiar lines from the movie, which I might add doesn't belong to me much to my total annoyance, but anyway enjoy and review cause your thoughts can help improve my writing.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
'We're creatures of the underworld  
  
We can't afford to love'  
  
It had been about the third thing Harold had said to her when she arrived at the Moulin's doorstep all those years ago when she had barely turned fifteen. It was the last thing Harold said to her before all her innocence was stripped away from her young, teenage face.  
  
Satine had broken the golden rule of the underworld before her, and look what happened there. She ended up dead and her lover drunken and broken locked up in a filthy garret for the rest of his days.  
  
But, then again, surely she wouldn't meet the same fate? But then, one can never be too sure about things in this world.  
  
She was Nini, the diamond dog who held true to the golden rule more strictly than any of them, she was the one who pleasured the gents, took her payment and moved on to the next in line, just like all the others only she was the toughest one of the all, the one who scolded the other girls for even remembering a particular gent, the one who burned the dance floor with all the passion in the world when it really meant nothing in the slightest to her. She was the Queen of the Underworld. Not the smothered angel desperate to fly away in love like Satine was, no. She was the Queen with a heart of ice, beauty of unavailable crystals and eyes of luring darkness.  
  
She had no love to give. No kindness to act on.  
  
She the empty Queen of the Underworld, nothing more, nothing less perhaps, until that one particular night.  
  
'Dance with me,  
If you dare dance with the devil'  
  
His voice, like crumbling and melting caramel, sleek and soft silk whispered those words in her ear from behind that night. His breath was heated and warm against her earlobe and smelt of dry absinthe. His hands were placed firmly yet softly on her slender hips and he was close to her and it felt that he was close to her than any man had ever been, which to her, in her position as what she was, was strange and somewhat frightening. It was like he'd connected into her and become a part of her as he whispered in her ear.  
  
She was never one to turn down a challenge and if that's what he wanted, that's what he would get.  
  
She banished her sudden chill of fear that whistled down her spine as he touched her and a wicked gleam formed in the Queen's eyes, she would blow this cunning knight away and settle in her throne again amongst the Underworld sins.  
  
'I'll dare dance with you,  
If the devil can handle my fire'  
  
She did not whisper back, she said it aloud and determined. The night was still young, Satine had not been lowered on her trapeze yet and she was probably hidden somewhere in the rafters with her Shakespeare. It was a perfect time for the Queen to take the floor.  
  
Her movements were quick and sharp as she moved past him out to the center of the floor, he close at her heels. All the other creatures of the Underworld kingdom had fallen silent and were watching their Queen, luring the lustful Argentinean knight to the battlefield with her dark eyes flashing, their charade of passion and eagerness covering the empty darkness that consumed them.  
  
The band, smart and handsome as they were, ceased the raucous can can music so only the sound of a plucked sitar was heard along with the deep notes of the piano as the tango, that would leave its mark on the floor, began.  
  
'She is the hunter  
  
And he is prey'  
  
Someone whispered to another as he took her hand in the center of the floor. His other hand settling onto her waist, sending that same chill up her spine that made her stone Queen stature falter for a second. His shoes tapped sharply on the wooden floor in time with the music as their dance began, he led her forwards, he pulled her backwards and though she never admitted it, he took her crown away.  
  
She spun out from his arms and let her heel clap onto the floor, so sharply some of the onlookers jumped, then spun back into him as the music grew in pace. He led her forwards with such precision and locked her in eye contact as she spun to the side and back again like lightening and then just as this knight was stealing the control from the Queen, the music changed.  
  
She wrapped her arms around his neck and ran her hands up his back; she could feel the sudden tingles consume him and she relished in the triumph of it as they danced slowly to the thumping and violent beat of the tango.  
  
'Has the hunter met her match?  
  
Could the night get washed away?' Faster and faster they danced, so quickly, sharply and in time with each other some thought they were but one dancer splitting in two. Their shoes tapped and clapped on the hardwood floor in unique unison, their hands and arms found each other like two flailing flags entwining in the wind and their eyes, his of eager lustful wanting and hers black like the sinful underworld she ruled over staring back like two beads painted with temporary passion.  
  
He had a fire boiling over in his blood that heated right out to his skin, a fire that burned so strongly for this underworld beauty he'd been warned against, his fingers itched to have her more each time they touched, his mouth was etched in greedy wanting, his steps were fuelled in unearthed fiery passion, he would tame this smoldering Queen, she would succumb to him.  
  
'Hunter's heart drips of ice  
  
Until a stab of fire touches'  
  
She watched him carefully every now and then when their hands locked and his arm rested about her hip, she could feel the heat of sweat and intensity radiating off him, there was something about this man, the flares of passion in his eyes, the gracefulness of his strict tango movements, the energy he never ran out of, the silkiness of his voice, the heaviness of his breathing.  
  
He was unlike any man that she had ever seen, he was powerful, he was strong and she felt a funny, unfamiliar sensation towards him somewhere other than down between her thighs, she felt it up through her fingertips every time they touched, like bolts of electricity being injected into her and racing up her arms through her shoulders, down her spine and then through the veins to prick the place where her heart was.  
  
'Roles are reversed every so often  
  
The hunted becomes the hunted'  
  
The music had reached such a climax, they were both now, without actually thinking about it, dancing so passionately, so fast, so violently that no one looking on, not even the better dancers, could compare.  
  
Everything became a blur around the Queen and the knight; the colors of the can can skirts around them spun away like a dying kaleidoscope, the black and white of the gentlemen's suits disappeared into just a grayish whiz and the shadows on the roof of the hidden Satine and her Shakespeare were just little movements in the sky.  
  
Then, the music stopped in a spectacular rumpus and the Queen stopped abruptly in the knight's arms. Both were breathing hard, both were locked in each other's eyes, both were still holding onto each other and both were breaking the golden rule of the Moulin Rouge.  
  
Never fall in love. 


End file.
